


what's left standing

by noahloveszombies



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Everybody Dies, Gen, its just a retelling of the story, l'manburg is left to rot in ruins, no beta we die like everyone, none of the characters are ever referred to by name, there's not a lot i can tag this as, wilbur dies and so does everybody else but permanently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahloveszombies/pseuds/noahloveszombies
Summary: there once was a place where men and women alike gathered to breathe. to feel freedom, and forest air in their lungs. until the forest came crashing down, and while the trees regrew and the vines overtook the remains of their homes, no citizen who still lingers can say that they had regrown as well.or; wilbur takes out an entire country, including himself. all that's left is the land. there are zero survivors.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 52





	what's left standing

**Author's Note:**

> ghostbur pog

the ruins of l'manburg are always thoroughly guarded, always cordoned off. once upon a time, it had been its own independent country, though barely even worthy of being called a principality, and hosted bustling civilians, with bright smiles and gentle touches. they fought not with weapons, but with words, with their wit. violence did not come naturally to them- it would not be a stretch to say violence didn't come to them at all.

until an outsider had come. an election had been announced, to officialize the current government's leadership, and two parties had joined together to pool their votes.

the outsider won. the leaders were chased out, their allies forced to remain under the rule of a tyrant, a drunk, a coward. a man who could smooth talk god into being let into heaven, though in the end, the devil would always catch up with him-  and catch up it did.

the rebellion, now proudly boasting a roster of almost every single citizen of l'manburg, rose up. down came the dictator's cabinet. down came the dictator himself, succumbing to natural causes while surrounded by his enemies, the coward's way to go. but the devil was not finished yet.  the leader of l'manburg, the founder, the  _ creator, _ had been driven mad in his time under exile. stricken with grief, fury, and paranoia, and no way to vent his frustrations, everything had built up, for he had to maintain his image. kind. gentle. a poet's heart, weaving gentle songs of encouragement down one path, veering those away from the road he feared they would travel.

reclaiming his land was not enough. the outsider's grip upon l'manburg had filthied it with his influence, his presence. the founder looked to his land, and saw only one man. his own legacy, rewritten by another. they would never look to l'manburg without thinking of the outsider. this country would always signify hurt, pain, death, war, a dictator's rule.  prior to the rebellion's victory, he had wired up the entire country with explosives. enough to leave only debris in its wake.

some say his brother had foreseen his actions, and went to stop him, unknowingly driving him further toward the country's destruction with each heated word.

some say his father had attempted to stop him, tried to talk him down with kind words, only to ultimately fail.

some say nobody had even thought to look for the founder of their country, instead celebrating their victory, before the ground burst open beneath their feet.

all that's certain is that the founder had achieved his goal. his land had always been meant to die at his own hands, not to be unravelled by a tyrant. he had put it out of its misery, given it a kinder fate, weaved an intricate story for those who were there to tell the tale.  eventually, the cordons had fallen, the guards dispersed. l'manburg carried the smell of gunpowder, blood and death, even now, years after the detonation. after the destruction. after the havoc that had been wrought.

buildings that once stood proud and tall now lay in pieces, crumbled to what was left of the ground. the grass didn't grow, crisp and yellowing and dry, some patches still clumped together with the flaky remains of dark, faded red blood. the corpses had never been cleared from the land. if you wander far enough into the crater, the thick smell of rot is strong enough to make you retch over the sides of the jagged stone and dirt. no stars shone in the sky, chased out by the smoke that still had yet to clear. both in day, and under moonlight, l'manburg remained almost entirely forgotten, by the universe and its denizens alike.

walking through the more inhabitable ruins of l'manburg was discouraged. strongly. most say it's disrespectful to the dead who still traipse over the dead grass, lingering at the site of their death, too much unfinished business in their lives to move on. too much regret. too much sorrow, and anger, and grief.

the bakery, though overgrown and collapsing inward on itself, still smelled strongly of fresh bread.

if you stood long enough next to the bench atop the hill, next to a crumbling concrete compound, the old jukebox would begin to play a crackly, incomprehensible tune as the sun rose over the horizon.

things moved. cold spots lingered. inexplicable gusts of wind, certainly not caused by the still and acrid air that hung over l'manburg, would pass you by as you explored.

the podium that several leaders had proudly stood atop once, coats flowing in the gentle breeze, suits jet-black and washed to perfection, armor shining in the sun as the light hit the protective exterior... pieces still stood. it was damn near close to falling into the crater, rickety and unstable, but it still stood. if you were foolish enough to stand atop it, some say you can smell cigarette smoke, strong and near, despite the absence of any other living being.

  
  


out of respect for the dead, and the desire to maintain your status as one such living being, it was usually advised that you never set foot into the territory of l'manburg at all. outsiders, especially, as they were not typically welcomed by whatever remained within the walls, rusted and weathered with age.


End file.
